


Sexy, Can I?

by braveryboyfriends



Series: Sexy, Can I? [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Edging, Eventual Fluff, Happy Ending, I don't have time to fix them, Light D/s, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Pining, Porn With Plot, Slight Pain Kink, Smut, Tattoos, harry is a tattoo artist, honestly idek what happened here, ive also been told the story moves at a quick pace, louis gets tattoos, sozzzz, thats true, there's a few typos and I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 21:25:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braveryboyfriends/pseuds/braveryboyfriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis decides he wants tattoo or two, and Harry just so happens to be the perfect tattoo artist. smut ensues...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Look At You

**Author's Note:**

> -who doesn't enjoy a bit of filth? at least there's a happy ending, yeah? idk. its riddled with angst. this was meant to be a one shot; Culpy turned it into so much more...-  
> 

"What'dya think?" Zayn grinned widely as Louis admired his newest tattoo, a large snake curled around his shoulder, the skin still red and angry.

"It's sick," Louis complimented with a smile as he sat back in his seat. "Who did it?"

"Same guy who always does mine, Harry. Down at the place I took you when I had this one done," Zayn pointed to the large tiger inked into his opposite shoulder.

Louis cocked his head to the side, instinctively gliding his fingertips over his upper thigh. He'd recently been absolutely itching to get a new tattoo. But not just any tattoo that he could go to just any tattoo artist for; something very specific and in a very specific place. The image of lace and tiny, delicate bows flashed through his mind before Zayn caught his attention.

"You thinking of getting something new?"

"Yeah, just don't know where to go. It's, uhm,..." he searched for the right words, "intricate."

"Harry is the best, mate. Pay him a visit, I'm sure he'd give you a discount when he remembers you from last time," Zayn was so focused on placing the bandage back over his skin, he hardly even noticed Louis getting up to leave before shooting him a quick goodbye. The mention of Harry was all the push Louis needed.

 

\--

 

"'Course I remember you," Harry held a blatant cocky grin, glancing down to where Louis had a nervous grip on the hem of his shirt and back up to his face.

Of fucking course he remembered Zayn's little friend. How could he possibly forget that delicious set of hips he couldn't peel his eyes away from the last time they were in his shop? He imagined digging his fingernails into those thighs so many times he could nearly feel them right under his hands.

"Louis, right?" he cleared his throat, driving the fantasy to the back of his mind for the sake of business.

Louis nodded and took in a deep breath, his subconscious nagging him about being so nervous and he hadn't even mentioned what he wanted yet.

"What can I do for you, Louis?" Harry's lips curled into a small smile as he leaned forward on the front counter which separated the two of them, his hands mere inches away from Louis', who seemed to be struggling with his words. Instead, he pulled a paper out from his pocket and began to unfold it very slowly as he spoke.

"I know how this is going to sound, okay? But I need someone who can actually be professional about this, and Zayn said you're the best, so," he eyed the image carefully before turning it around and sliding it towards Harry, "I want this pattern on both of my upper thighs" Louis breathed out the last part in such a rush, Harry barely understood him.

But when he looked to the paper, he instantly understood. It was a printed design of lace, straps, and tiny little bows. Something you would see at the top of a thigh high stocking, some dirty little pair of lingerie you'd find in a sex shop on the wrong side of town.

Harry was suddenly very aware of everything. Aware of how thick the air seemed, how quiet it was in the empty shop, how many times he'd actually imagined getting this boys pants off and now,...how easy it would be to flip the "closed" sign and lock the door...

He glanced back up to Louis with an arched eyebrow and a smirk that spoke a thousand words all by itself. As he made his way around the counter slowly he didn't even try to hide the hunger dancing in his eyes, making Louis' spine tingle.

"Look, if you don't think-" Louis began to protest and reach for the paper Harry still had in his hands, but was quickly cut off.

"No, no, no," the younger boy nearly whispered as he pressed his back against the front door of the small parlor and locked the deadbolt with a loud click. "Top of the thighs, huh?" He pushed away from the door and sauntered over to Louis, eying the said area. "You've come to the right guy," he fought the urge to get a nice grip on those thighs, reminding himself he'd be doing just that very shortly. "Just, uh, go on back to the largest table and get comfortable," Harry gestured to the back of the shop, "and whenever you're ready you'll need to take those pants off, babe." He couldn't hide the smugness of his tone even if he wanted to, nor the fact that he let the word babe slip instead of mate or lad or bro or anything else, really.

Louis hardly minded. He was just glad to not be getting absolutely ridiculed over this obscene desire to have lingerie tattooed onto his body forever.

He waited a few minutes before deciding his heart had stopped racing enough to actually be able to take his pants off without easing into cardiac arrest. Not only was this actually happening, but it was being done by Zayn's sexy as sin tattoo artist that Louis had shamelessly fantasized over countless of times.

Within minutes he was going to have those large hands splayed over the innermost skin of his legs, those untamed curls falling over those concentrated eyes, those full lips just inches away from his dick.

"Fuck," Louis breathed, cursing his overactive imagination. Sitting pant-less on this guys tattoo station was no time to be swelling up. He quickly removed his hoodie as well, a desperate attempt to cool down before Harry could pop around the corner.

 

\--

 

Soon enough, the design had been stenciled onto Louis' thighs and a needle was being dragged against his skin, forever inking lace and bows onto his body.

You would think the pain would be enough to keep his arousal at ease, but Louis was having a hard time concentrating on anything other than the tight grip Harry had on his leg and the way he could feel hot puffs of breath blowing around between his legs.

Each time Harry would exhale a small shiver crawled it's way up Louis' spine; and soon small shivers were turning into painfully obvious shudders. By the time Harry was finishing up the first leg, shivers and shudders had turned into blatant body quakes and Harry quickly caught on.

While dipping the needle back into the small cup of ink, a time Louis had been using as a breather and to silently plead with his body to calm down, Harry dipped his head down and angled a purposeful puff of air right up the inside of Louis' boxers; a wicked grin playing on his lips at the choked noise that escaped the older boy.

"You know," Harry stated coyly, "if you're going to continue wiggling around like this," he stood from his chair, "I'm going to have to find a way to keep those hips of yours still." He pressed his thumb into the exposed skin of Louis' hip for emphasis and bit his lip at the small yet noticeable twitch just under the thin fabric covering Louis.

He hummed at the way Louis' body defied him before deciding he liked this game all too much to pass it up.

In one swift movement, Harry was straddling the older boys legs, haunched just between the tattooed area and his knees. He splayed his hand wide over Louis' hip and pressed some of his weight onto the area before starting on the second tattoo.

Louis' body was very quick to ensue in its betrayal. No longer being teased by hot breaths right up to his dick, he thought this was going to be easier. Oh, how wrong he was.

"Never had such a hot little body on my table before," Harry cooed, "trembling and sweating."

Louis raked his fingers through his hair and down his face, infuriated at his body and the way it was giving into this so easily. His half hard arousal was steadily filling with blood and becoming a full blown erection. Harry's little words of encouragement and the way his fingers were gripping bruises into Louis' hip wasn't helping a bit.

"You're sweating," Harry grinned, setting the tattoo gun off to the side as he leaned up to brush his fingers across Louis' collar bone and down the small bumps of his rib cage.

"What do you say to us getting you a little more comfortable?" He hooked his fingers under Louis' shirt and pulled it up, receiving no protest from the older boy. Louis knew where this was headed, and he'd be lying to himself if he said he wasn't pleased.

 

\--

 

Long fingers danced feather light touches up and down Louis' inner things for nearly the hundredth time, but the thrill still remained. He couldn't tell if it was the gentle touches, the brief tinge of pain when Harry would brush over his new tattoos, or the way his cock felt like it weighed a ton, but he was quickly slipping into a mind frame that made him feel like he was adrift in space.

His dick was standing straight up, pulsating with the urgent need to release. His entire body looking as beautiful as the early morning grass, dewed and glistening with sweat. His thighs were swollen and red and forever adorned with inky lace. His eyes were completely blissed out but his voice held a desperate tone as a needy purr fell off his lips, and Harry knew right then he'd never seen anything so perfect.

"Look at you," Harry whispered, his accent thick and voice catching in the back of his throat. He dipped his head, mouth open, and hovered just millimeters away from Louis' untouched cock.

Not close enough to give Louis the warm wetness his body wanted, needed, but close enough that he could feel each inhale and exhale; and the way the direction of the airflow would change with the way Harry's tongue was bouncing around in his own mouth.

"Bet you could come just like this," he breathed, angling his face just enough so his eyelashes brushed the hyper-stimulated skin, pulling more delicious sounds from this needy boy beneath him. "Wonder how long you could last" he spoke mainly to himself, but loud enough for Louis to hear.

"Please, Harry," he rocked his hips off the table ever so slightly. "Please, just do something. Anything. Just fucking touch me," he pleaded, rolling his body sensually from his spine down to his hips in an attempt to find friction against Harry, but Harry had already leaned back to admire this little show Louis was unknowingly putting on.

"Tell you what, baby," Harry dragged a single finger up Louis' stiff length achingly slow, "you make me feel good, and I'll make you feel good," he swiped his finger along the tip, Louis arching into the touch, "how's that sound?"

"I need..." Louis' voice was barely above a whisper, sweeping his hand down his body and reaching for the only part of his body that craved attention.

Harry was quick to still his movements and hush the small whimpers that followed with a single kiss.

"I'll be the one to handle that, love," Harry pushed Louis' hand back up his body. "all in good time."

Louis envied the way Harry was so calm and collected, but he wasn't the one who was rock hard and denied release. He knew he could take care of himself in just a few tugs, but that's not what he wanted. He wanted Harry. And if that meant Harry getting what he wanted first, Louis was more than happy to appease.

He watched as Harry stood and slowly peeled his shirt off, discarding it along with his belt onto the floor.

"Hop off that table, Louis, and get down on your knees," his tone was soothing yet authoritative. Louis slid off the table and did just as Harry said, dropping down to his knees and staring up at the gorgeous body before him with anticipation dancing in his eyes.

Harry eased Louis' fingers through his belt loops and waited for the lust driven boy to catch on; which he did quickly. Within moments Harry's jeans were pooled around his feet and Louis was practically begging for instructions; pawing at Harry's thighs and inching his fingertips closer to the younger boys prominent erection.

Harry swiped the backs of his knuckles down Louis' face, coming to rest just below his jaw.

"Can you open that pretty mouth for me?" Harry's voice sounded like a rich syrup, and Louis immodestly obliged, opening wide and eager.

Harry eased the tip into Louis ready mouth, humming in approval at the warmth and the way Louis was already hard at work with flicks of his tongue and a slight rhythmic bob around what little bit Harry offered up.

"Easy, baby. No rush," Harry placed his hands on Louis' shoulders to ease his movements. "Let me," he purred as he rocked forward.

Harry wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he was practically drooling when he felt Louis' nose meet his lower abdomen.

"Oh, fuck," he nudged the back of Louis throat and moved his hands to cup Louis' face; his thumbs massaging small circles into the jut of the jaw bone. A wet choking sound filled the room has he pushed even further and Louis had finally reached his limit, hands flying up to push against Harry's hips with no avail.

"Just breathe through your nose, baby," he continued rubbing circles into the corners of Louis' jaw, "m'close. Gonna be good and swallow?" He pulled out long enough to except an eager nod from Louis before thrusting back inside, a familiar heat twisting in his belly at not only the feeling but the sight before him. A beautiful blue eyed boy with a mouth full of dick.

One last choke around his sensitive tip was all it took before he lost himself right down Louis' throat, whose cheeks were hollowed out and lips wrapped tight. Harry pulled out in one quick move, a slick and audible 'pop' sound bouncing off the walls as Louis was reluctant to let it go.

Unable to swallow it all, some seeped down his chin, trailing slowly down his neck and across his prominent collar bones.

"So fucking beautiful," Harry praised, swiping his thumb across Louis' swollen lips, wiping away some of his own come and placing it back in Louis' freshly fucked mouth. "Tell me how it tastes, love." He pulled Louis up from his knees and eased him back against the table, encouraging him to ease his body up so he could lay down.

"Like sugar," Louis' voice was raw and gravely, his throat all stretched and fresh. "Sugar and whiskey." He slowly laid his body down, keeping his eyes glued to Harry's.

"You like having my dick in your mouth, Louis?" Harry arched an eyebrow and trailed a finger down Louis' abs, stopping just above the base of his still-hard dick. Louis lulled his head back and rutted into the touch, giving a moan as his answer. Harry hummed in response, moving his finger completely around the desperate erection and farther between those thick, freshly inked thighs he'd been dreaming of for weeks. "Are there other places you'd like to have my dick?" he drew another long, broken groan from the older boy at his implications.

"I want to get off," he countered, "I want you to touch me."

"Can you roll over for me, baby?" Harry dismissed Louis' pleas, already rolling the older boys flushed body onto his stomach.

"Harry, please," he pressed his face into the cold surface, thankful for the relief. Just not the relief he was so close yet so far from. "You promised," he breathed.

"I don't remember promising," the smirk on his face didn't have to be seen to know that it was there. Louis began to protest, getting fed up with this constant denial. He'd just let himself practically be choked to death, all he needed was a few more of Harry's little teases and he could probably come completely untouched. But Harry saw his hand slipping beneath his overturned body and hooked his hands around Louis' hips, pulling him up and back and into his already returning hard on.

"Please," Louis repeated over and over, not sure if he was still begging for release or for Harry to bury himself in Louis, but he just needed something. Anything. Constantly being on the verge of climax, the sinking heat tugging inside his belly, the hazy mind, the clouded judgement; everything was becoming overwhelming. He was practically pouring pre-come, his fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat, and all he could manage was to fumble over saying please and Harry's name.

This was all a delicious game to Harry, how plaint and hungry Louis had become, wondering how long it had actually been that he'd been hard and just on the edge of madness. He leaned down, draping his body over Louis', hovering his lips just over his ear as he snaked one hand around the clasp around Louis' amazingly stiff length; slick with pre-come and bouncing along to the rhythm of his rapid heartbeat. He pumped agonizingly slow, but anything was better than nothing to Louis.

"You wanna come, baby?" he nipped at Louis' neck, "wanna show me how bad you want me?" he nipped at Louis' shoulder, "how long you've been holding out for me," he sank his teeth into the skin, leaving a deep red flesh wound. A filthy slew of curses and and moans broke from Louis' chest, unable to form coherent sentences. "You gonna let me inside this body?" Harry's voice was barely above a whisper as he nudged his finger around Louis' entrance, toying with the tight muscle. "What do you think about that, baby? You like being fucked?"

Harry knew he had no intentions of actually fucking Louis, with no lube or condoms around the shop, there was no chance. But he enjoyed the reactions he was getting, this game of cat and mouse.

He flipped Louis back over, taking a moment to drink in this fucking work of art all sprawled out on his table. Fresh thigh tattoos, covered in sweat and sticky with come, his body trembling and his cock laid flush against his stomach. He leaned down and left sloppy kisses all over Louis' hips, thighs, and stomach. His unruly curls tickling every inch of skin, driving Louis into another place he wasn't even aware of; somewhere between rage and serenity.

"Please," he breathed one last time. And finally, Harry was the one to cave; filling his mouth with the astonishing length. He raked his fingers down Louis' ribs and back up, rolling his body with each sinful buck of Louis' hips. A few times, when he could feel Louis' about to let go, he'd audibly pop off and lose himself in the cries and pleas Louis could manage. But he wanted to taste Louis more than he'd care to admit and finally allowed the release.

And it literally crashed into Louis like a train, wave after wave of it rolling out of him from his shoulders to his hips; leaving him shaking and breathless. Harry took it all, graciously. Never having tasted anything better in his life; something reminiscent of salted caramel, only sweeter.

"You were so good for me, baby," Harry praised the trembling boy with a long kiss right on the head of his finally relieved dick, then up to his lips.

"All bark and no bite," Louis' eyes were closed, a sleepy grin adorning his sweaty features. "Guess all that talk of getting inside this body-"

"Oh no no no," Harry cut him off, "that's just a taste of what you'll get next time."

"Who said there's going to be a next time?" he opened his eyes at the feeling of Harry easing his body down next to him, rubbing the pad of his finger along his lips.

"Oh baby, I think we both know there's going to be plenty of next times".


	2. Three Months

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey Sweet Thing

Three months. It had been three long, anxiety driven months since Louis left Harry's tattoo parlor with thigh high tattoos and sticky skin. He wanted to go back the very next day, and every day that followed for a whole month, so bad that it hurt. All he could think of was that damned curly haired boy who tasted like sugar and whiskey and the way he'd never craved another human being before.

Late at night when he was alone and all flushed with desire, he'd desperately try to please himself with the image of that cocky grin playing on swollen lips dancing just behind his eyes. And while he was always able to provide his own release, it was never quite the same as that night in the back room of a poorly lit tattoo shop; and damn near every time Louis would find himself needing more. An itch just below the skin that he knew only one person could scratch.

He questioned his morality and fought with his subconscious almost daily. One minute he'd be in his car, keys in the ignition, with every intention of barging through that damn door and locking it behind him.

But every time he'd find himself with his head hung low as he turned the car off and walked back into his empty flat, knowing he could only dream of being that confident.

After the first month passed, things became a little easier. He was starting to forget exactly how Harry tasted, how his voice sounded when he was about to come, the way it felt when Harry was massaging circles into his jaw,...and it was becoming easier to convince his body that his own release was enough. That moaning Harry's name, picturing the younger tattooed boy instructing his every move, was completely normal.

But one night during that third month, everything Louis had built up came crashing down with a knock on his door at 11:15pm. And when his eyes locked with an unmistakeable shade of green, he was certain his jaw was on the floor.

Harry was leaning against the door frame, eyeing Louis' body like he may as well not be wearing any clothes at all. It's not like he didn't already know what was underneath every single layer; the way every inch looked in its most vulnerable state.

"Hey sweet thing," his eyes finally met Louis', his tongue wetting his lips, "where've you been hiding?"

"I, uh-" Louis fumbled for a response as Harry brushed past him, entering the living room and sitting on the couch like he belonged there. "What are you doing here?" his hands subconsciously moved to his thighs, fingertips gliding over the intricate tattoos just under his jeans, because Harry was the only person to have ever seen them.

"Could've sworn I'd be seeing much more of you," Harry dismissed the question easily, not that Louis expected anything different. "It's not very often I find myself playing the waiting game."

"I haven't been hiding," Louis brain was finally catching up, still in shock that his nightly fantasy was sitting in his living room like it had been three days, not three months. "I've just been...busy," he closed his front door and slowly made his way over to the chair opposite Harry.

"Plenty of room over here," Harry gestured to the space next to him, followed by a small chuckle, "or my lap, if you like. You could sit that pretty-"

"Harry," Louis was quick to cut him off, "why are you here?"

Harry adjusted his body so he was leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. He opened his mouth to speak, no doubt to purr his way through some other sexual advance, but decided he'd always been better at showing rather than telling.

Within moments Harry was on his knees between Louis' legs, hands prying his knees apart. He trailed a light grip right up to where he remembered those dirty little tattoos were and smirked up to Louis, cocking his head to the side.

"I think we both know why I'm here, baby," he moved his hands up and began massaging Louis' hips and stood so their lips were ghosting over one another. "Don't tell me you just forgot about me," he breathed as he made his way down Louis' neck; lips never making contact with the skin, but brushing his nose and eyelashes over the pulse point.

Louis' felt like fireworks were exploding in his veins. Not only was Harry here, between his legs, but all the memories and desires were crashing into Louis like a wave; pulling him under and dragging him forward. He couldn't help but lean into the touch and lull his head forward, allowing his hands to grip into Harry's sides and a breathy moan to fall off his lips.

"Did you forget about me?" Harry locked his eyes with Louis and slipped a hand under his shirt, "did you forget about all that fun we had, Louis? All laid out on my table, throat deep on my dick," Louis could feel his heart pounding through his whole body, but the mention of the memory had his blood rushing to only one place.

"I didn't-" he choked on his words as Harry dropped back down between his knees and began quick work at the button on his jeans, "I didn't forget."

"Tell me you missed me," Harry demanded, his voice as rough as his actions; tugging at Louis' belt loops.  
It would be a lie to say that any part of Louis was screaming at him to stop; the only thing being screamed at him was how badly he needed more. And he did miss Harry. He missed his taste, his smell, his body, his skin,...

"I missed you," he breathed, already panting and sweating; heated and hard. He nearly lost it at the way Harry's features went from feverish to a calm smile when he finally removed the clothing from Louis' bottom half; not wasting any time before nipping his way along the inked lace and right up to his swollen tip. Harry let out a noise, somewhere between sheer adoration and desperate hunger, as he leaned back to take in this sight; a sight he'd been missing since the moment it left his shop three months ago.

He ran his fingertips over the delicate designs, tracing the little bows as if he were untying them. The pads of his fingers danced along the sensitive skin for what felt like ages, and Louis had once again found himself in some sort of state; blissed out, like time had stopped and the whole world had gone dark all except the green of Harry's erratic eyes.

"No, no, no," Louis whispered, "not this again. Not these god damned games, Harry, please."

"You love these games," it was almost as if Harry was speaking to no one, really. The way all of his attention was completely concentrated on Louis' muscles twitching with anticipation, watching his skin bead with sweat and body instinctively trying to rock into the touch.

Hours pass just like this; Louis all sprawled out in his living room chair, Harry haunched between his legs wreaking havoc on his mind as he builds Louis closer and closer to climax only to deny him release.

There comes times when Louis' complete lack of oxygen from holding his breath has his chest heaving and eyes welling, and he's grateful for the few minutes Harry talks him through his exasperated fits of desperation. Quiet, soothing little purrs of "relax, baby" and "just breathe" as he watches Louis' body for cues on when he can resume this beautiful torture; all the while holding that serene smile, like he'd never seen anything so amazing.

"Take me to bed," Louis finally rasps, his body no longer able to hold itself up in the uncomfortable chair; and Harry's peaceful grin almost instantly curls into the devilish smirk Louis remembers. He stands and skims his lips along the older boy's before splaying his palm wide on Louis' chest, pressing down firmly.

"I'll be right back," Louis was instantly frantic, worried that Harry was leaving him like this; pushed right up to the edge only to be left there alone. But what Harry followed up with almost made him wish that'd what was really happening. "And when I get back, I expect to find you in bed, naked, with that pretty cock just as untouched as it is right now," his voice trailed off, moving his hand to where Louis' erection was flush against his stomach.

He spends a few seconds bumping his knuckles over the hypersensitive length with a touch so light you'd think he was petting the wing of a butterfly, but then he's gone.

Momentarily Louis feels utterly lost, even in his own home. His mind slowly seeps back to the real world, taking its hazy time to clarify and remember that he's supposed to be in bed waiting for Harry to come back.

He strips off his shirt, all stiff with sweat, and crawls into bed as quickly as his sluggish muscles can carry him. But as he's laying there his better judgement nudges it's way forward, telling him he could very well just reach down and relieve his aching arousal and lock the deadbolt on his front door, pretending none of this ever happened and call it a night.

Just as he decides he's going to do it and he reaches down his body, the bed dips beside him and a large hand is cupping around his wrist.

Harry straddles Louis' waist and dips his head so he can whisper but still hold an authoritative tone.

"What did I say about leaving that pretty cock untouched?" he pulls something out of the small duffle he brought inside with him and seconds later something silky and black is being secured over Louis' eyes, shortly followed by metal cuffs securing his wrists to the slats of his headboard and a thick leather collar tightened around neck.

"What are you doing?" Louis breathed, craning his head from side to side uselessly. Harry simply silenced him with a lush kiss.

"Just gonna have a little fun, baby," he can't see it, but Louis knows the smile is there.

"Harry, please. It's been hours. I can't do this," Louis tugs against the restraints, rolling his hips against Harry and throwing his head back.

"Sure you can, love. You're doing so well for me," he moves his lips down Louis' chest and begins nipping at his ribs. Louis let the praise sink in, feeling like he's glowing; like there is bound to be some sort of amber color radiating off his skin, and for a moment he feels almost human again.

But Harry begins to rock his own hips against Louis' and he's instantly reminded that he's been painfully hard for hours.

Harry continues sliding his body down until his mouth just just above where Louis' tip is leaking onto his own stomach. When Louis feels a single sweet, soft kiss right on the head and a tight grip on the base, the familiar twisting heat in his belly begins to tug down to into his cock.

"I'm gonna-"

"No," Harry lifts his body from Louis', dropping the swollen erection and grabbing the leather collar, "you're not. Not yet, baby."

If Harry says he's not, then he's not.

A rough sob wrenches it's way out of Louis' throat, feeling that sinking heat slowly disappear and turn into a deep ache.

Louis isn't sure how much more time passes, but it passes just the same as the hours before. Only this time they're in his bed and he's bound helplessly to the headboard. Harry lures Louis' body right up to the edge before forcing it to bring itself down from the high, providing the only assistance of encouraging praises and watching admiringly. He's absolutely certain if it weren't for him being tied down and Harry's firm grip on his collar he'd simply float away.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful like this. So fucking perfect, and all mine," Harry nudged Louis' legs apart and settled between them. "Tell me you're all mine," his breath was hot against Louis' cock, all pink and sticky and ready.

"Yours," Louis whimpered, willing Harry to close the small distance between those plump lips and his throbbing arousal, "I'm all yours."

"You've been so good for me, baby. I want you to see something," Harry began untying the silky material from Louis' eyes.

Louis absolutely blown away when he opened his eyes to see the early morning sunrise peeking through his curtains, casting a beautiful pink glow on Harry's bare, ink stained body. He couldn't believe it was already dawn. But even more than that, he couldn't believe how amazing Harry looked. His curls had fallen over his eyes, his body was flushed and his muscles were taut.

"You deserve to watch. Can you do that for me?" Harry licked a single wet stripe up Louis' length, so desperate for release. Louis nodded but wasn't sure if his shaking, exhausted muscles would be able to keep his body perched up enough. "Don't worry, I've got you," Harry hooked a few fingers under the collar and flexed his arm back, holding Louis' head up.

Louis was bracing himself for another long and torturous game before he'd be given what he needed, but something about the way Louis looked all tied up and sweaty under the glow of sunrise set a fire in Harry and he was quick to swallow every thick inch of Louis' hot, heavy, astonishingly hard cock.

And when he dismissed the warning of being close by wrapping his free arm around Louis' body and forcing him buck his hips....

It hit Louis almost violently, knocking the breath clear out of him. It was everything. Not just coming, but absolutely everything. It was the build up that lasted all night long. It was Harry's flawless body and the way he looked at dawn in his bed. It was the warm wetness of Harry's throat that he'd been dreaming of for three long months. It was Harry.

He nearly passes out when he feels completely empty and Harry reluctantly pops off, wiping the pads of his fingers across his lips at what little he couldn't swallow and placing it between Louis' parted lips.

"See how good you taste, baby?" he was already making quick work at the metal cuffs. Louis wore a sleepy smile as his licked his lips, pleased with his own taste but still nothing compared to that sweet whiskey he knew Harry could provide; which made him remember.

"What about you? Don't you want to-"

"Already did," Harry's voice was so even and calm. So different from his commanding tone he'd donned all night long.

Louis didn't ask questions, too completely worn out, in every sense, to care.

Once again Harry mentally blamed the way Louis looked right now. It had to be the lack of sleep or his foggy mind that made him suddenly sad to know it was time to leave. He knew it was something else, deep down. Something he wasn't ready to admit just yet. So for now he'd just blame this beautiful boy beneath him.

But when Louis reached out for him with his freshly unbound hands, he sunk into them eagerly. He took in a deep breath, drawing in everything around him. The smell of Louis and sex was thick in the air and something inside of him clicked.

"Don't make me leave," he breathed into Louis' lips, waiting for the older boy to kiss him back instead of taking control.

Louis met the kiss, pouring everything he had into it, body and all as he wrapped his trembling arms around Harry.

"Fall asleep with me?" Louis finally flickered his eyes open and was, again, overwhelmed with how beautiful this boy looked in this moment as he tucked both of their tired bodies under his blankets.

Harry watched as sleep overtook Louis, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was right where he was supposed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DON'T BE SHY COME TALK TO ME ((www.tumblr.braverybaby.com))


	3. Disheveled And Empty

When Louis woke up later that day the sun was already setting. The air in his bedroom still seemed heavy and smelled sinful and heavenly all at once.

He wasn't at all surprised to roll over and find the other half of his bed disheveled and empty. Against his better judgement he gathered the mess of sheets and pulled them close, breathing in the scent that still lingered.

Metal cuffs still clung to the headboard, and the scarf Harry had secured around his eyes still lay on the floor, but that was all that remained of the boy who rocked his world; if only for a night.

He stayed in his bed simply playing the events over and over for a while, enjoying the way his muscles ached from being strained for so long. He wondered when Harry left, if he actually stayed and slept or if he just waited for Louis to fall asleep before slipping out soundlessly. He wondered why Harry even bothered to say he didn't want Louis to make him leave if he was just going to leave anyways. He wondered what all of it meant; the coming over in the middle of the night, staying until sunrise.

But eventually enough was enough and he crawled out of bed and into the shower.

The hot water helped to relax his aching body and dismiss the slideshow of fresh memories. He stayed in until the entire bathroom and half the hallway way clouded with steam and the water ran cold.

He spent the rest of the day, and every day for the following week, with a vacant expression. Spending most of his time laying on the side of his bed Harry spent an unknown amount of time in before leaving without so much as a goodbye.

As the end of the week rolled around, Harry's scent was beginning to fade, but he still couldn't bring himself to wash the sweat-ridden sheets.

He wondered if he should suck it up and go by the tattoo shop, demanding an explanation. But just like the time before, he could only dream of being so confident. He could picture Harry laughing at him much easier than he could predict Harry also spending a whole week wallowing in self pity and memories of sex at dawn. So he would just drag his lonely heart back to the wrong side of his bed and will a certain tattooed boy to knock at his door.

 

\--

 

When Harry woke up, the midday sun was pouring into Louis' bedroom, making everything uncomfortably hot. His entire body was curled around the older boy and it seemed odd to be in such an intimate position yet so comforting to know Louis was so close that air couldn't pass between them; sound asleep with his fingers loosely intertwined with the hand Harry had draped over his beautiful sun kissed body.

He debated over waking Louis or leaving before he could wake up for over an hour. He had dozens of ideas on ways to wake him that would be pleasing, to say the least.

But common sense kept reminding him that if Louis wanted anything more than a night of fun every now and then, it wouldn't have been three long months since the last time they had seen one another. He nuzzled into the back of Louis' neck, taking one last long inhale, and left the flat as silently as possible.

He spent the rest of the week in a daze, occasionally toying with the idea of showing up at Louis' door but always backing out. He didn't want to feel like whatever this was between them was being forced; like Louis was some kind of helpless prey to Harry's games. Instead he'd go home and desperately try to drink away all that remained in his memory about Louis.

 

\--

 

When the last customer leaves his shop on Friday night, he decides he's had enough. Some blonde headed slut getting a tramp stamp trying her damnedest to get in his pants, and all he wanted was a blue eyed boy with voice cracks and permanent thigh highs. He practically shoves the disappointed girl out the door before locking up and speeding his way across town.

He sat in the parking garage across from Louis' complex for twenty minutes, trying to figure out if he was home or not and feeling like he was about to explode right out of skin. What if he's in there with another guy? What if he laughs and slams the door?

Finally a light flickers on and Louis' silhouette was just behind the curtain with what looked like a towel around his waist.

Whispered words from their last encounter play through his mind.  
*"tell me you're all mine" - "yours, I'm all yours"*

"That's it," he was sick of waiting.

 

\--

 

Louis had just finished his new routine of staying in the shower until there was no hot water left and half the flat was clouded, the air all hot and wet. He wrapped a towel around his waist and went to the bedroom, sitting on the end of the bed and running his fingers through his wet hair. Droplets of water escaped and danced their way down his back, bumping over the knots of his spine.

He looked over his shoulder to the side of the bed dubbed as "Harry's" and was just about to sink into sheets that didn't even smell like him anymore when it happened.

Part of him was absolutely sure his mind was playing tricks on him; he'd been wanting to hear that knock on his door so badly that he was just imagining it. But the other part of him that still had faith in Harry coming back was carrying him to the door, not even giving a second thought to his appearance; still dripping wet and only covered by a towel.

The moment he was inside Harry was quick to make his body flush with Louis', cupping his face and holding the kiss for as long as his lungs would allow before walking Louis backwards into the nearest wall.

What started as soft and sweet quickly became feverish and heated, Harry's hands all over Louis' exposed skin and both of them desperately trying to get closer.

"I need you," Harry hooked his fingers around the towel, "all of you," removing it easily and tossing it aside before doing the same with his own shirt; damp from being pressed against Louis' wet skin. He took a few appreciative moments to take in the beautiful sight before him, a flawless body perked with desire, before dropping to his knees and kissing every inch of Louis' stomach.

Kisses slowly turned to nips which slowly turned to a trail of deep purple love bites leading from Louis' ribs, across his stomach, and down to his hip. Harry kept a steady knead around those delicious tattooed thighs he'd been dreaming of, working his way upwards.

By the time he stood his lips were swollen and red and his hands had finally reached their ultimate goal, the prize between Louis' legs. He worked it cautiously, eager to get Louis hard and panting but steady enough to yield anything more than that desperate need for more state he loved driving the older boy into.

"You want me to take you to bed, baby?" he kept his voice as serene as possible, nipping and sucking all along Louis' collar bones, "Show you how much I missed this beautiful body?" he dragged his available hand across the permanent lace and bows gingerly before getting a tight grip.

Louis dipped his head back, making his neck more open for Harry's gentle assault, a breathy "please" dancing out of his chest.

"Tell me you want me," Harry's all too familiar need to be reminded of the evident truth was certainly nothing Louis was tired of yet, "tell me you want me inside of you," he continued to work Louis into a full blown erection; chest heaving and body sweating.

"No games," Louis was barely coherent as he rutted into the touch, "please, Harry. Please just take it."

Hearing Louis beg was the final push. Harry was in no mood to play his 'all night long' games that left Louis boneless and exhausted. The night was young and their bodies were hungry for one another and this, he decided as he laid their bodies down, was no time for any kind of denials.

He momentarily noticed the metal cuffs he'd left last week were still hanging from the headboard but quickly dismissed it when Louis was already hands and knees for him, pawing at the sheets and whispering small pleas for Harry to make a move.

It wasn't long before Harry's first few fingers were slicked with lube and Louis felt like fire was in his veins at the feeling of Harry easing one inside. He received small praises as he worked himself into relaxing around it, arching his back and rocking his hips.

"Good, another," Harry twisted his second finger inside and involuntarily moaned at how tight Louis was. But even more so, at how well he was handling it.

Lust filled eyes drank in the way Louis' muscles moved just under his skin, the lush curve of his hips, his hands gripping the sheets, his permanent lingerie, and knowing he was the only one who even knew of its existence...he couldn't help but to curl his fingers into that one fleshy spot, causing the most sinful noise to rattle out of Louis' throat.

"Breathe," Harry reminded him, removing his fingers and replacing them eagerly with himself, concentrating on not absolutely wrecking Louis,...not yet, at least.

He thrust in slowly, waiting for the tightened muscles to relax just a bit.  
Louis was absolutely positive there was a fire brewing in his belly. Everything felt hot, a blooming heat from the inside out. He'd never felt so fucking full and beautiful all at the same time.

Harry must have noticed the way his body was too overwhelmed to hold itself up any longer as he pulled Louis' wrists behind his back and held his body upright just like that.

"You're so tight for me, baby," Harry's voice rang through Louis' ears like a symphony. "You like being all full of my dick?" he pushed himself as deep as possible, toying with that one spot with every thrust. He accepted the way Louis' began to circle his hips as an answer and continued with his quiet praises and reminding him to breathe.

"Harry," Louis moaned, "I'm not gonna last," knowing he wasn't going to be denied in combination with being all stretched and full of such a gorgeous boy was pushing him closer and close to the edge.

He was still waiting for Harry to stop him, to stop all his movements and force his body to bring itself down from this high. But when, without warning, he felt Harry release inside of him, filling him with the most wonderful of intimacies, his climax hit him with a mind blowing full body tingle.

He felt it in his fingertips, in his hips, in his lips, everywhere. He was certain his whole body had some sort of vibration and was reluctant to be laid back down on the sheets, no longer full but uncomfortably empty.

They laid together, chest to chest, wordlessly; just breathing each other in with the occasional kiss. And as hard as Louis wanted to suppress his endless list of questions for fear of pushing Harry away, he just couldn't.

"Harry, we can't keep doing this," his voice wasn't nearly as confident as he wanted it to be. The statement lingered in the air before hitting Harry like a punch in the face.

"I'm sorry," Harry's breathed, resting his forehead against Louis', "I couldn't stay away," he slowly ran the pads of his fingertips over Louis' hip bone. "I honestly tried giving you space, but I-"

"That's not what I mean," Louis inched closer and took in a slow breath, "you have no idea how bad it felt every time I thought it was going to be another three months before you came back," he finally looked up. "I can't keep being your quick fix. I can't be your dirty little secret. You're out living your life and coming over when you're lonely, but I'm here having to force myself to sleep every night because I can't stop thinking about you and I-" Harry silenced him with a full kiss, much like the one he had met Louis with when Louis opened his front door less than an hour ago.

Louis waited and waited for Harry to speak, but he wasn't surprised when all he received was a smile and a few more long kisses. When he did finally speak, it wasn't quite the response Louis was aiming for, but better than a let down.

"You know where my shop is," Harry outlined Louis' lips with his fingertips.

"You know where my flat is," Louis smirked, not wanting to drive Harry away, and pulled Harry's thumb into his mouth, sucking lightly.

"Oh, baby," his voice dropped and with his available fingers he cupped Louis' jaw. He attempted to make a move to position himself on top of the older boy, but Louis was quick to stop him.

"Not this time," Louis' tone was playful and pleased. And before the memory could trigger with Harry fast enough, he was already bound to the headboard with his own cuffs; forgotten from last time.

Louis straddled his hips and leaned down, lips ghosting over one another as Harry uselessly tugged against the restraints.

"I think it's time someone played your own games against you," he gave a single kiss, "just gonna have a little fun, baby," using Harry's words.

"Fuck," Harry breathed the word over and over, cursing himself for not taking the damn things with him when he left last week. He loved playing these games with Louis, but no one had ever turned them against him. No one had ever had the nerve. But this boy, this effortlessly perfect blue eyed boy, had already begun.

Louis knew he didn't have as many tricks as Harry did, and he was always too lost in his own bliss to actually make mental notes. But he did know how to work his body, and he sure as hell remembered the filthy slew of curses that fell out of Harry when he realized Louis didn't have much of a gag reflex.

He was subtly rocking his hips into Harry's as he tickled down the younger boy's neck, down his chest, over his ribs, and right up to the base of his cock; a few slow massages before intertwining his fingers in his own hair; using his own body as one of his decided tricks.

He ran his hands all over his own skin as he rolled his body and worked his hips to a song that wasn't even playing; music wasn't needed, Louis fluid body was poetry in motion.

Harry could already feel himself swelling up again, Louis steadily rubbing against him.

"Remember last time?" Louis rolled his body down, still working his hips, "Remember how you wouldn't let me come until the sun came up?" a sly grin spread across his face.

"You wouldn't dare," Harry was already meeting each and every roll of Louis' hips, already hungry for more.

"You're wrong," Louis breathed. He elevated his body off of Harry's, denying him the gratification of the friction of skin against skin. "You look gorgeous like this, love," he spoke mainly to himself as he admired Harry all bound up; muscles strained and pulling against the cuffs, dick slowly returning to its usual state of rock hard when he's around Louis, pale skin stained with ink and beaded with sweat.

He wondered if, since Harry liked using dirty words, he liked hearing them as well. He brushed his lips down over the bump of Harry's abs, right up to the tip of his arousal.

"Bet you'd like to feel my mouth around this cock," he pressed a single kiss right on the head, "all the way down," a feather light touch down the heavy length, "til my nose rests just about," he pressed his finger into the muscles around the base, "here." Louis glanced up to Harry's erratic eyes and held the same sly grin as he nestled his body between Harry's legs.

It was all coming very clear as to why Harry liked these denial games so much.

Harry continued his never ending whispered curses. It was all becoming overwhelming and he kept promising himself he'd never tease Louis ever again if Louis would just blow him already. It was hours until sunrise, there was no way he could take much more.

But before he could try to reason with the older boy, his whole body felt like he was under water when the remembered feeling of being balls deep in Louis' throat washed over him.

Louis popped off with a slick smack of his lips and started a steady bob on Harry's tip, hollowing his cheeks and occasionally dipping down until his nose met Harry's abdomen.

It was absolutely driving Harry mad that he couldn't get a handful of Louis' hair or hold his face. He wasn't accustomed to being so submissive, and it was definitely not something he could see himself favoring any time soon.

"Let me touch you," he croaked, "please, baby," he tugged against the cuffs again, the headboard groaning against the force. "I will break this fucking bed, I swear-" Louis wanted this to last so much longer, but more than anything he just wanted to please Harry.

So he sat up and quickly unlocked both cuffs and got right back between Harry's thighs with not one intention of teasing. As he filled his mouth with Harry's leaking cock he felt one hand cup under his chin and the other laced into his hair, the taste of sugar and whiskey edging closer and closer; he needed to taste Harry again, it'd been too fucking long.

With one last drop all the way to Harry's skin, Harry bucked off the sweat soaked sheets and lost himself in the back of Louis' throat.

Louis swallowed every drop graciously before sliding up the bed and laying beside a completely spent curly haired boy.

"Will you stay?" his voice was rough and freshly fucked, and it was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever heard.

"Yes, baby," he curled his body into Louis, sleepy eyes still closed. He wasn't sure if he'd stay long enough for Louis to not wake up in an empty bed,...but for now, he'd stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come talk to meeee ((www.tumblr.braverybaby.com))


	4. Hopeless

When it came to Louis, it seemed as though being in love with Harry was like a trying to complete a puzzle that was missing some of the pieces. Harry fit into his life seamlessly, but there was always something missing.

Months passed and he'd come over as many nights as he could, always thinking of new ways to blow Louis' mind in bed, fall asleep holding one another,...but Louis always woke up alone. He knew he had fallen for Harry hopelessly, but what was even more obvious was that he was the only one who felt that way.

A few nights he tried staying awake to see when Harry would leave in hopes of begging him to stay, but without fail Harry would always rock his body into an exhausted state and the next thing he knew the morning sun would be spilling across the empty bed sheets beside him.

He wanted to talk to someone about it, or confront Harry directly, but just couldn't find the words. Nothing seemed to make sense. They weren't anything official, it's not like Louis had some sort of claim over the younger boy other than the occasional love bite and Harry's false promises of staying. He always came back, but he never stayed.

 

\--

 

It was almost midnight, and for the very first time Louis wasn't excited or anxious for that familiar knock on his door. He'd spent the past two hours sitting on the floor in complete silence, crying until his eyes hurt knowing this was just going to be another wonderful night that led to another dreadful morning.

Harry knocked and without invitation entered the flat. Louis didn't even acknowledge it, not even when Harry slid down on the floor beside him. He was afraid that if he looked upon that beautiful face he'd memorized every inch of, he'd just start crying again.

They sat together on the floor for a bit, neither of them speaking. Every few minutes Harry would try to catch Louis' eye, but eventually grew tired of the silent treatment.

He shifted so he was sitting directly in front of Louis and leaned in for a kiss, but was dismissed and got Louis' cheek instead.

"Come on, baby," he cooed in his best voice as he ran his fingers down Louis' arm.

"Don't call me that," Louis' voice was just as cold and hurt as he felt. He pushed Harry's touch away and leaned back against the foot of the couch.

"You love it when I call you baby," Harry moved between his legs, "especially when my cock is deep inside that-"

"Harry, stop it!" Louis shouted. It rang through the air for a moment and seemed so out of place. Neither of them had ever shouted at the other before unless it was out of passion and involuntary. Harry instantly sat back, not knowing what to make of the small outburst.

"What's wrong?" he questioned.

Something inside of Louis snapped.

"What's wrong?! Harry you can't be serious!" he pushed himself off the floor and away from Harry as fast as he could.

"Baby, I don't-"

"The only time you want me to be yours is when your dick is hard! You only call me baby behind closed doors!" he began to pace before stopping look Harry right in his eyes. "So what is it, baby?" he used the word with a heavy mocking tone, "Are you ashamed? Embarrassed that you spend your nights skin to skin with another guy instead of some girl you could show off around town?" Louis' voice was rough with anger and the burning strain of holding back tears, his face twisted with heartbreak.

Harry finally stood from the floor and tried approaching the older boy to cease all of this with the kiss Louis dismissed earlier. He cupped Louis' face as gently as possible, skimming the pads of his thumbs over his lips, and for a moment Louis faltered. He fell into the kiss and almost forgot what all of this was even about, but he soon remembered. He shook his head and pushed against Harry's broad chest.

"I can't do this, Harry," he whispered. "I'm tired of waking up alone."

Harry's brow furrowed, shoulders falling and sighing heavily. Louis waited and waited, holding onto the last thread of hope that Harry would say something, anything, to bring that spark back. But he didn't. They stood in a painful silence for what felt like ages, and Louis was done.

"Just go," he breathed, right on the brink of falling apart.

"What?" Harry's voice was thick, breaking at the end. "Louis, come on, let me make it up to you?"

Louis wanted to scream at him to leave, to just go and don't bother coming back; not tomorrow, not a week from now, not three months, never. He wanted to grab that gorgeous boy by the collar and shove him out of his door. Instead he simply shook his head, ducking it low, and pointed to the exit.

The moment the door closed he dropped to his knees and was certain he wasn't even breathing he was sobbing so hard. It seemed never ending, this deep ache that ran from the inside of his heart all the way to his bones.

Hours pass before he crawls into bed, avoiding Harry's side at all costs. The crying had stopped but memories were coming at him hard, relentlessly one after the other. And right when he thought it couldn't get any worse, his imagination kicked in.

What if Harry would've stayed?  
What if he promised to stay until morning?  
What if he said he felt the same?  
They would be tangled in these very sheets right now, all sweaty and panting and tongue tied. Then they'd be falling asleep together, quiet whispers of beauty and praises filling the air that would smell of sex and hot breath.

But Harry didn't stay and Louis fell asleep alone with swollen eyes and a broken heart, missing his tattooed lover already.

 

\--

 

Louis woke up feeling overbearingly hot and his mind was completely hazed. The bedroom was still dark, moonlight peeking through the blinds, and something was wrong.

The unmistakable feeling of curls tickling his inner thighs snapped him out of his sleep induced fog. Harry's hands kept his thighs pried apart as he tried to instinctively snap them closed, his body finally realizing this intense pleasure blooming inside of Harry's wet, warm mouth.

With sunken cheeks and a long pull, he popped off Louis' full erection just long enough to purr a few words.

"Good, yeah?" he licked away the beading precome, "Just relax, love. And breathe," and with that he sunk back down and gave it his all. He loses himself in giving Louis the absolute best of the best, soaking in every little noise and every buck of his hips.

Louis thought, for a moment, Harry was going to play his damned games when he felt his cock being slowly dropped out and off of Harry's lips, but then something thrilling happened. Something that had never happened before.

"I want to prove to you what you mean to me," Harry slid his body up against Louis', "to prove to you that I'm not going anywhere," he pushed against Louis' chest and sat upright, straddling those fucking delicious hips, "and to prove to you," he smiled a little and Louis almost choked when Harry slowly slid himself down onto Louis' cock, "that I love you," his eyes were closed blissfully and that small smile still remained.

It was the most wonderful thing Louis had ever heard, and ever felt. They had done so many new things together, but this wasn't one of them.

Harry circled his hips and bounced his body, trembling at the feeling of being stretched and full. Louis couldn't take his eyes off Harry's flawless body; his curls falling in front of his closed eyes, his pale skin in the moonlight, his muscles contracting, his hips dancing, the whispered words of love playing through his mind.

It was perfect. They always went at it hard and fast or teasingly slow, but never like this. This was slow yet beautiful, tantric and serene.

"Harry, I love you," he breathed. Harry's sweet smile returned and he filled himself completely, resting skin to skin on Louis' hips.

"I love you, baby," his voice held the tone Louis knew so well; he was right on the edge. Louis pressed his hands down on Harry's thigh and simultaneously lifted his own hips, pressing right against the hypersensitive spot deep inside the younger boy.

For the first time in his whole life Harry not only came untouched, but he came in unison with someone. They were both drowning in ecstasy as they rode it out together, cursing and praising and moaning.

Harry slid off cautiously and laid down, sweaty and lucid, on his side of the bed; pulling Louis into his chest.

Louis smiled at the sound of his erratic heartbeat. It was usually heavy and slow, but this time Harry's heart was all over the place; nothing steady about it.

"You came back," Louis whispered.

"I had something important to say," Harry's voice was still raspy and shaky. He ran his fingers under Louis' chin and tilted his head up, meeting his lips with a feather light kiss. "When you wake up, I'll be right here."

And when Louis woke up the next morning, Harry had never looked more beautiful than in that very moment.


	5. Do You Know Now?

It's summer now, and Louis sits alone in his flat surrounded by memories of Harry. Tiny things. Things you can't just toss in a bin and pretend it doesn't ache all the way to your bones when you're not strong enough to throw it away and you pull it right back out and tuck it away safely in the back of your closet. But everything else; the things in between.

Like the stain on the rug where Harry spilled his tea one cold morning in December because he was too busy kissing Louis and missed the table. Or the dent in the washing machine where Harry kicked it when they had gotten into an argument, which led to them panting into each others sweaty "I'm so sorry" make-up sex skin. Or the H and L key that are missing from his computer keyboard from the time Harry plucked them off found some odd way of stringing them up and putting them on Louis' Christmas tree. "Boyfriends First Christmas" he had called it.

After the night Louis had quietly told him to leave and he came back with words of love and actually stayed for the first time, him and Harry had become quite domestic. Harry started staying so often he had his own section of the closet, his own section of the bathroom vanity, he own mug for tea and coffee. For the first time in a long time, the flat didn't smell only like Louis. When he would come home the smell was blissfully different, a light smell of mint and musk. It stayed this way all through the autumn months and the first few weeks of winter. But once Louis forced himself to wash every scrap of bedding, the smell was gone.

Everything physical that could be packed away had been put out of sight, like the shirt Louis knows he left on purpose because he knows Louis likes to sleep in it, but it felt like Harry still clung to the air. Louis felt like he could replace every thing in the entire flat, even repaint the walls, and Harry would still be there without actually being there. Nothing could make him forget that night Harry showed up and Louis didn't come until sunrise. Nothing could scrub that first image of Harry at dawn once that blindfold was removed out of Louis' brain; it was like he saw it every time he blinked, resting just behind his eyelids. Waiting to taunt him with what once was.

Not to mention the permanent reminder, inked right into his thighs forever; constantly gripping at the tattooed lace and bows absentmindedly.

Louis cant remember the specific date that they got into that fight. The one that ended in Louis punching his boyfriend right across his cheekbone and demanding he leave. He doesn't even remember what started the fight. And it seems so odd to think he couldn't be bothered to mark that day in his mental calendar. The day that Harry left.

He remembers that it was snowing because as he watched Harry walk back to his car from the window snowflakes had started to collect on his curls. He remembers changing his phone number when Harry called twenty seven times in a row. He remembers getting blindly drunk and waking up to a trashed flat, busted knuckles, and broken glass everywhere. He remembers spending the following four weeks and two days going through the motions. Angry, depressed, really depressed, lonely, denial, and ever since has been stuck in this empty state. But he doesn't remember the date Harry left.

It's summer now, and Louis sits alone in his flat surrounded by memories of Harry.

 

\--

 

_saw Harry today_

Louis ignores the text from Zayn, knowing any kind of response would lead to nothing but drowning in a bottle of whiskey and hating everything. He wants to say so many things, like "must be nice"or maybe even "i bet he looked beautiful" but he knows better. He lets the message sit unanswered until he phone buzzes to life again on the pillow beside him, illuminating his dimly lit bedroom.

_he asked about you_

If anyone ever asked about it, he'd never admit to it. But he stared at the message for ages, wondering what Harry may have asked. How exactly he worded the question, or if there was more than one question in regards to him. How exactly his lips would move around the words. How exactly his Cheshire accent would curl them into a way that only Harry could speak at that slow, pouring honey, kind of way. Before he let himself think about too hard and wind up halfway into a bottle of some cheap liquor, Zayn brought him back.

_quit being a twat, Tomlinson. answer me._

Rolling his eyes and clicking his tongue, he typed out the only thing that wouldn't sound daft.

_and?_

The response was only seconds behind.

_you're both idiots. I'm coming over with Liam, get your ass out of bed._

If there was one thing Louis had learned from his years of friendship with Zayn, it was there was never any use in telling him he couldn't come over. He stayed in his bed for a few minutes, with what could only be described as sulking, before unlocking his front door and waiting on the couch for Zayn to come in without knocking, as per usual.

"Fucking Christ" he huffed, dragging his hand down his face, as all of this seemed too familiar. Waiting for someone to come in without knocking. Instinct made him drag his fingernails over his thigh with one hand and glance up to the chair across from him. Memories of whispered words and Harry between his legs for hours hit him like a train.

_-"Tell me you missed me" - "I missed you" - "No no no, not this again. Not these games, Harry, please" - "You love these games" - "Take me to bed"-_

 

"You just gonna act like we don't exist? Hello, Zayn! Hello, Liam! How nice of you two to pop in! Lovely to see you both! Oh yes, you too Louis!" Zayn's mock greetings echoed around inside Louis' brain before he snapped out of it. Zayn rounded the corner from his kitchen with two small glasses and a bottle of Louis' whiskey.

"Babe," Liam mildly scolded him before following behind him.

"You made me get out of bed on a Wednesday night to come over and drink my booze," Louis accepted the glass he was offered, "I would hardly say it was nice of you to pop in," he laughed a bit and took a small sip. Zayn, on the other hand, took a strong pull from his glass; making a face at the harsh burn that led from his throat to his chest. "I can see you've got nothing but good things to talk about," Louis arched his eyebrows and nearly cringed watching Zayn polish off the rest of his glass in one go.

"You're both idiots," Zayn mumbled between coughs and deep breaths.

"Babe!" Liam's scolding escalated. "It's half nine and you're drinking his alcohol. Least you could do is stop calling him an idiot."

Zayn gave a quick smile to his boyfriend. They had both been very good at keeping their distance from one another whenever they would come to Louis', well aware of how a fresh breakup feels, especially when you're surrounded by a love-fest. He considered himself lucky, though. On a normal day, you practically needed a crowbar and the threat of a flame thrower to get the two of them apart. These days all it took was one quick warning from Liam and Zayn was heeling like the puppy he is.

Zayn tapped out a cigarette from his pack and lit it, filling the air around them with a smell Louis could only relate to stress and Zayn. "Every time," Zayn took another long drag off the cigarette, "every damn time I see him he asks about you and-"

"Zayn," Louis stopped him, holding his hand up, "you out of all people should know I've been trying really hard to let this go," he paused for a moment, a far off look in his eyes, "to let him go," it was almost a whisper. "And I just don't think talking about him is the best idea."

"That's the thing, though!" Zayn nearly shouted. "I don't understand why you're both trying so hard to distance yourselves from each other."

"He had his chance," Louis breathed, holding his glass up to his lips, "many chances," he pushed away the rising memories with a mouthful of whiskey. "Took him three months just to decide I was worth a second go. Then three more weeks to come back at all. And he always just came back like it had only been a few hours, not months or weeks or days, like he knew I'd just let him in and-"

"You're both idiots," Zayn laughed, holding a finger up to his already protesting boyfriend, "Louis, listen to me, I know whatever happened between you guys was less than romance novel worthy," he trailed off, remembering the first time Harry showed up at his house and begged him to do what he's doing now. Which had been months ago.

-"Bro, please. He'll talk to you. You've got to do this for me, Zayn, please!" - "I've proper fucked up. Got all caught up in our stupid argument and said I never really loved him. Said he was always just a guaranteed lay and nothing more." - "I'd give anything to take it back"-

Louis making a noise between a scoff and a laugh brought Zayn back to the present.

"You're my best mate, and I wouldn't be here defending someone who comes second to you if I didn't think he was genuine," Zayn got up and went to the kitchen, running water over his burnt out cigarette and tossing it in the bin.

"He's right," Liam spoke up, "I wanted to stay neutral in all of this, let you and Harry figure yourselves out on your time. But it just seems like you're both, I dunno," he shook his head. Zayn mumbled something about idiots again, this time all of them laughing a bit. "To me, it seems like you're both right on that edge, waiting for the other to fall. You're bloody miserable, Harry's a wreck,"

"Just go suck his dick and tell him you forgive him, for the love of-"

"Zayn!" both Liam and Louis shouted. Zayn just shrugged, laughed, and poured himself another glass.  
"Works for me every time," he winked at Liam, who had to audibly hold back a laugh.

"Maybe talk to him a bit first," Liam said, "but good head never hurt anyone," he, along with Zayn and Louis, burst into laughter and spent the next hour or so going over the pros and cons. Ultimately, they shot down most of the cons as stupid excuses and Louis wound up with far more pros.

Before he really had a firm grip of what was happening, Louis had about three glasses of whiskey in him, had actually smoked one of Zayn's cigarettes, and Liam and Zayn were dropping him off in front of Harry's tattoo shop. After many "go inside or I'll push you inside" threats from Zayn, they finally left and Louis was wondering how things got to this. He was in bed. Sulking, but in bed nonetheless. Now he's standing outside this god forsaken tattoo shop, three glasses deep into a bottle of liquor, and the all too familiar magnetic pull to go inside. Knowing who is inside.

For a moment he contemplated calling a cab to come get him from the bar a few blocks away. Just telling Zayn and Liam that he started to feel ill or that Harry had already left. But that damned bell hanging just inside the door drew his attention back to the present.

"Louis?"

It was almost like the world stopped. Like time sort of...shifted.

Those moments when whole body feels like it's vibrating, and your legs aren't sure if they can hold you up anymore, and your lungs feel completely empty, and everything is silent but deafening. Louis was having one of those moments.

When your brain shuts down so your heart makes all the decisions.

"What are you doing here?"

Thoughts, feelings, and emotions were firing like canons in his mind, memories lightening fast right behind his eyes. Months of built up, suppressed heartache and longing slammed into him; he could feel it all the way to his bones.

There he was, standing right in front of him. Smiling, breath clouding around him in the chill London night air, and real.

Louis couldn't keep his eyes focused, taking it all in, jumping from Harry's eyes to his lips to his hands and back up to his eyes.

"Hey, hey," Harry's voice was barely above a whisper and seemed far off and distant, so tentative that Louis could hardly place it as Harry's. The last time it'd been this soft and easy, it was the first time Harry had ever said he loved him. "Don't cry, Louis," Louis hadn't even realized he was crying until Harry's cold fingers wiped away the warm tears, moving to the back of his neck and pulling him close; enveloping him with a warmth and scent that was almost painful to subconsciously connect with a certain few four letter words.

**_WRONG_** Louis' brain screamed at him **_THIS IS WRONG THIS IS WRONGWRONGWRONG GET AWAY FROM HIM NOW_** He nearly had to physically stop himself from actually stopping himself.

He simply shook his head against his fight or flight urge to run away as fast as his feet could carry him and wrapped his arms around Harry's waist; trembling hands clutching fistfuls of Harry's shirt with everything he had.

They stood that way for an unknown amount time, small calming whispers etching their way into this moment forever. Harry never once questioned where this was coming from, he knew. Nothing had ever been closed, just a wide open wound at the end of their relationship. This was everything left unsaid; months of knowing this was exactly where they'd wind up. Back in each others arms because what they shared was like gravity.

"Come inside?" Harry finally pulled away, Louis still crying, and gestured towards the shop. Louis drew in a deep breath, lungs quaking, and shook his head.

"Come home," he stood on the tip of his toes and pressed a single kiss right into the corner of Harry's lips.

 

\--

 

Louis almost found it funny how the first thing he thought of when they arrived at his flat was that it'd finally smell like home again. No matter what happened or how all of this ended, for the next few days everything was going to smell the right way.

Harry shrugged his coat off, smiled lightly at the bottle of whiskey and used ash tray still sitting on the table, and took Louis by the hand straight to the bedroom.

 

\--

 

Keeping his eyes on Louis', Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, steady and composed. He turned the device off and tossed it across the room, clambering across the floor and bumping against the wall, like he didn't even care if it broke.

"I'll apologize in advance, and make up for it later," Harry let a smug grin play across his lips as he did the same with Louis' phone, turning it off and tossing it aside, "because this is going to be messy and over far too soon," he hovered his lips right over Louis', and if it were ever possible to look even more arrogant than before, he did, pressing his entire body into Louis' with a heated intent, "and I hope you've got a firm grip on something, because I'm about to suck your soul right out of-" Louis let a deep moan fall into Harry's mouth, feeling an equally hard erection grind against his own.

Harry wasted no time at all. He dropped right to his knees, raking his fingers over Louis' ribs with one hand and pushing against his hips with the other, encouraging him to lay back on the bed with his legs draped over the side. Quick work at his clothes and before he knew it he was greeted with one of his favorite things in the world; the feeling of curls tickling his innermost skin on his thighs.

Harry didn't even have to open his eyes, already blissfully closed with his lips wrapped warmly around Louis, to know just where those tattoos were. It had been just over a year since this hot body was laid out on his table with fresh ink and sinful urges, but they were still his favorite part of Louis. This sexy little secret that only he was in on.

He wrapped his hands around each one, gripping bruises and kneading the muscles. He was making damn sure not one part of Louis' body would forget who was between these legs come tomorrow morning.

He have it everything he had and just a little more, base to tip and back again. He curled his tongue and drew almost all the way off, staying just like that with a glance upwards. Louis' body was already covered in a beautiful sheen of sweat. He popped off with an audibly wet sound and with every ounce of sensuality he possessed, he slid his body up against Louis' with a snake-like roll of his hips and dipped into the crook of his neck.

"Anything you want, baby," his voice was rough, but sweet. "Anything at all. It's yours," he pushed off the bed and haunched back to his original position between Louis' legs. His eyes glazed over as he stared at Louis cock, flush against his stomach and bobbing to his erratic pulse, then up to his face as he sat up and carded his fingers through Harry's curls. "Anything," he breathed, a gentle reminder. He understood the weight of the word, and he meant it.

Louis cupped his hand under Harry's chin, pressing his thumb right under that plump bottom lip to ease his mouth open. Harry easily obliged, letting his tongue slip out over his teeth. He looked delicious and slightly hazed, and Louis took no time to push forward into this.

Louis lulled his head back, mouth open and slack, and let this amazing, sinful heat course through his veins. He felt so pent up, like a bomb with a mile long fuse. It was all so much at once.  
Harry on his knees, lips all swollen and cherry red and obscene; and the filthy way he worked his tongue. Louis wanted to fuck right into the back of his throat, but wanted this to last.

It'd been too long not to last, but his on coming orgasm danced it was down his spine and dipped into his hips. He wasn't going to last.

He bumped the back of his knuckles over Harry's hollowed out cheeks and ran his thumb right up to the corner of Harry's mouth, right where those heart stopping dimples would be. A thought occurred to him, and that was it.

He trailed a finger up Harry's throat and pulled out, reluctant lips staying loose and open with needy green eyes staring up at him.

"Smile for me, love," Louis breathed, working himself towards the edge, "show me those dimples," keeping his eyes trained on Harry's.

Doing as he was told, dimples popped right in time for the right one to be spilling over with the most intimate of releases; dripping down his jaw, down his neck, and pooling into his collar bone.

 

\--

 

After cleaning up the mess he almost instantly felt guilty about making, stealing just one reeling moment to bask in what a beautiful sight it was, the two of them sat on Louis' bed; keeping mostly to themselves, tension was so thick and heavy they could practically taste it, before deciding they needed to talk about what had happened to them.

It started out rather easy, both of them treading lightly. Still stuck in the post-haze. They both were just waiting for that fault to line to crack, and it happened when Louis mentioned that he'd watch Harry walk away, remembering the snow.

"The snow?!" Harry shouted, "you remember the fucking snow?!" his face didn't match his voice; broken and tired and sad. "You want to know what I remember? I remember sitting in my car and crying until I felt like my eyes were bleeding. I remember drinking myself into a stupor and thinking that if I could just down a little more I'd forget about you, but wind up throwing it all back up. I remember getting on my knees and /begging/ Zayn to talk to you, something, anything, because you'd listen to him," he stopped to take a shuddering breath, "but you know what I don't remember?" he finally met Louis' gaze and a single tear slipped down his flushed cheek. "Someone could have held a gun to my head and I would have never known it was snowing."

Silence fell over them, uncomfortable and heavy. Louis had always held that moment as his breaking point, watching Harry leave. But it dawned on him that all he ever saw was Harry's back, the snow collecting in his hair. He always assumed Harry was just as composed as ever while he was really falling apart.

"I was scared, Harry," his words bounced off the walls, the truth in the them striking a cord.

"Scared of what? I gave you everything you asked for! You wanted me to stay, I stayed. You wanted us to be official, I told everyone. Everything you wanted-"

"I was scared of you leaving me before I could do it to you first," he whispered, ashamed. "You're so amazing, Harry. And I just didn't understand what you saw in someone like me. I knew that if you left me, it would be the end of me. So," he looked up and Harry's eyes were red rimmed and heartbreaking, "so I pushed you away."

"I've never had someone like you," he continued, "someone who understands me and accepts me and loves me and makes me feel important and-"

"Louis, I'm not going anywhere," Harry reached under the collar of his shirt and pulled the chain hanging around his neck. He lifted it around his head, thoughtfully held it for a moment, and pressed it into Louis' hand. "I was building up the nerve to give you that before we got into that fight," he paused, frowning a bit, "before you made me leave."

Attached to the chain was a silver ring. The outside was a muted silver, no shine to it like a matte finish. On the inside, though, a bow had been engraved out of the center. Much like the ones on Louis' thighs. Harry eased himself closer, taking the ring back very slowly before holding out his own hand where a ring identical to it sat beautifully on his third finger.

He slid it off with a small, easy smile.

"It's made to be a little snug. So if you leave it on long enough, the bow on the inside will stay on your skin," he held out his hand and, sure enough, the impression of a bow like the ones on Louis' tattoos was wrapped around his finger.

"Harry," Louis breathed, skimming his fingers over Harry's. It was so small, but so monumental.

"Will you wear it?" Harry asked, slipping his back on and offering the necklace to Louis, who had it around his neck so fast it was almost laughable.

 

\--

 

For the first time since the first time, Harry made love to Louis. There was no rush. It was soft and sensual and beautiful. It was easy and effortless and natural. It was everything. Harry spent an hour just kissing every part of Louis he could get his lips on, praises and promises whispered between soft brushes of lips to skin. He spent another hour just running his fingertips up and down Louis' body, loving each and every twitch, especially the little noises and gasps. The next hour was spent rocking Louis' body into this next level of bliss, some unknown territory where he was seeing stars and could feel everything. Every breath, every bead of sweat, every curly hair against his neck, every roll of his hips, everything.

Said and done, they lay wordlessly with tired eyes and sleepy smiles; their bodies so close air could hardly pass between them. It was a nice kind of quiet. It spoke for itself.

Right as the sun was starting to rise, pinks and oranges filling the room, Harry wrapped his fingers around the necklace and removed it from Louis' neck.

"It's not just some gift, you know," his voice was exhausted and deep. Louis' favorite.

"I don't understand," he was just too, familiarly, spent too put much thought into it. Harry removed the ring from the chain and tentatively held it right against the top of Louis' third finger.

"There's a question meant to go along with this sort of thing," in this moment, Louis was certain his heart had never beaten faster and Harry had never looked more beautiful. The ring bumped over Louis' first knuckle. "I think you know where I'm headed," it bumped over his middle knuckle.

Louis pushed his finger into the rest and into Harry's hand, interlocking their fingers.

He pressed the lightest of kisses into Harry's lips.

"I'll always be yours, Harry," another kiss, "I loved you before I even knew you. I just didn't know how."

"Do you know now?"

Louis laughed a little, resting his forehead against Harry's.

"I do," he whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i may re-visit this story in the future, maybe some chapters from Harry's POV before where Chapter One started up or maybe some chapters about their lives these days,...but for now it's on hiatus. COME TALK TO ME! ((www.tumblr.braverybaby.com))


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